


I Saw You First - An Angel and Her Assassin story

by Winchester_with_Wings



Series: An Angel and Her Assassin [2]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: DO NOT COPY, DO NOT REPLICATE, Do not repost, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-21
Updated: 2020-03-21
Packaged: 2021-03-01 03:42:03
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,794
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23238646
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Winchester_with_Wings/pseuds/Winchester_with_Wings
Summary: The story of the first time you and Bucky saw each other but didn't actually meet. Then a flash forward to the present. smut.
Relationships: Bucky Barnes & Reader, Bucky Barnes & You, Bucky Barnes/Reader, Bucky Barnes/You, James "Bucky" Barnes/Reader
Series: An Angel and Her Assassin [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1670815
Comments: 3
Kudos: 67





	I Saw You First - An Angel and Her Assassin story

**Author's Note:**

> People have asked for sequels to An Angel and Her Assassin and I gave it a shot. hopefully this is a good continuation and elicits some college feels cuz it definitely did for me! Hope ya'll like it!

_**inspired by that one video of Seb working out**_[ _gif post_](http://https//sexy-marvels.tumblr.com/post/190692742075/sebastianstaan-sebastian-stan-via-don-saladinos)

* * *

Bucky noticed you before he ever encountered you in the laundry room or the elevator of your dorm building. It figures that it would be at the gym, likely one of the regular places he frequented. Of course, you never knew this until after that fateful night at the Halloween party when you finally, truly connected.

When you asked him to tell you the story, he was playfully vague. But you know. You were there. You’d checked him out too.

Here’s how it really happened.

* * *

The summer after your freshman year, you created another reading list to focus on. One of your methods to read these had been to take a book with you to the gym. You figured getting a little exercise at the same time would only help you develop better habits.

It worked, at first. The beginning of the new semester, you went to the gym for maybe two weeks? You enjoyed the ellipticals and recumbent bikes--the things that kept your legs busy but your hands and eyes free to read. It also distracted you from feeling self-conscious about the fact that you didn’t look like the other girls that came to the gym to socialize and work on their already-perfect bodies.

With the addition of classes, going to the gym became a harder habit to keep. You could just stay in your dorm room and read all you want, right? But by now, Rachel, your roommate needed a work-out buddy. Someone to motivate her to continue to go to the gym, as well. She claimed she wanted to get in shape for all the boys she’d scoped out at the floor meeting for the dorm during the first week of the semester.

“Let’s try the classes!” she suggested, pointing at the schedule on the wall. Step Aerobics, Yoga, Zumba, etc. They sounded alright, and maybe a change to your routine would be good.

So you started with the step aerobics class. You didn’t last long. You were breathing hard, face flushed and dripping with sweat. The blood was pounding in your ears, harder than the beats of music and every step on the hardwood floor and plastic steps.

You took a break, heading to the back of the class to get your water bottle. The back of the room was floor to ceiling windows and doors that faced the main area of the gym where all other equipment was. It took you only a second to realize why you disliked this set up. Everyone in the class, mostly other female students were in a fishbowl, on display for all the guys passing by or just blatantly standing at the windows. One guy winked at you and you scowled at him, effectively directing his eyes elsewhere.

 _What was so sexy about a sweaty step aerobics class?_ You thought to yourself as you turned to look at Rachel, killing it on the routine.

 _Oh, the butts,_ getting toned by the steps... _Ugh_!

You left after that, picking a leg press machine instead.

“Hey! Why you’d you leave?” Rachel asked after the class was over.

“Did you not see all the guys window shopping?”

“Uh, yeah, I got a number or two,” Rachel giggled, swinging her ponytail over her shoulder. You laughed as you got off the machine, offering it to your friend. She sat down and lowered the weight, _significantly._

“I don’t come here to pick up guys.”

“You could if you wanted to,” she said, exhaling on the release. You just rolled your eyes. You told yourself it was because you didn’t have time for a man but really, how could you possibly expect to attract the interest of some jock? The guy that winked at you doesn’t count. He was disqualified the moment he decided to drool over a step aerobics class rather than work out. Your standards weren’t that low, seriously…

You and Rachel tried out a few more machines in the circuit, trying your own hands at strength training. But you realized quickly that you’d left the quieter space of the cardio equipment, too close to the weight lifting benches. Young men of all sizes were pushing themselves to the brink, breathing hard, grunting, exhaling, chanting, and egging each other on. 

“Come on, Sam, you can do it! Just two more!” You knew that voice. Everyone on your floor knew Steve Rogers, quarterback, certified hunk and sweetheart. Or at least that’s what you had heard.

“He can’t do it.”

“Shut up, Buck!” a football player shouted as he pushed himself.

Too much testosterone. Intense. Stressful. Intimidating. That’s not what you wanted out of going to the gym. Quite the opposite really.

As you two left the gym, you made a mental note to avoid that area again.

\----

The next class you attended was Zumba and not only did you keep up with it but you enjoyed it! The music was awesome and the choreography wasn’t too difficult. You could totally see yourself doing this again. But of course, boys… not men… boys…they ruin all the fun.

If step aerobics could catch the attention of onlookers, then zumba was like blood in the water for sharks.

Then again, you did feel sexy, swaying your hips, waving your hands, rolling your body. You decided to put the spectators out of your mind, losing yourself to a Shakira song.

When you left the class, having stayed for the entire thing and deciding to return tomorrow, you felt so good, so confident, that you didn’t care about who was looking. You were just in Nike leggings and a tie-dye shirt, hair up in a messy bun, nothing special, but you felt great.

“Hey, Rach!” someone called out for your friend, inviting her back over to the weight lifting area. The guy who called out for her looked familiar, someone that was likely found hanging out with Steve Rogers.

“Hey Sam,” she greeted him. You stayed by her side, holding onto that Zumba confidence with a steely grip.

You didn’t really listen to what happened between your friend and the football player. You saw Steve a few feet away with another friend. The man was on his back, legs bent and giant dumbbell weights in each hand. Your eyes went wide as you watched him push them up and hold them there. The way his arms were bulging in that gray t-shirt, he was straining himself and you were tempted to tell him to be careful.

“Give me one more!” Steve encouraged him. His friend winced as that last push was almost too much for him.

“Ah, fuck,” he hissed, exhaling and grinding his teeth. He pushed those dumbbells into the air once more and even a second time, then put them down with a loud thud as rubber met the concrete floor.

You didn’t have the best view of his face from his position on the ground and your standing position over 6 feet away, but that sound...like a growl, and his bared white teeth against that strong jaw covered in stubble…it’s a sound that stirred something deep in your belly.

He jumped to his feet and did a few quick squats in those black basketball shorts. You averted your eyes from his perfect ass just as he turned around. 

You wouldn’t mind if he’d been watching you dance.

* * *

_“Ah, fuck.”_

It’s the same sound that he made now as you sit on top of him, his hips thrusting up. His fingers were digging into your hips and would likely leave a bruise, but you didn’t mind. You were Bucky’s and he was yours. You’d staked your claim with that hickey on his chest just the other night.

“Mmph, fuck, damn it. I love it when you move like that,” he grunted. You rolled your hips, earning another moan from his lips before you leaned forward and pressed your chest to his, kissing him. He wrapped his arms around you and pinned you to him as he sat up and rolled over. The grunts and squeaks coming from the two of you as Bucky repositioned himself on top were ridiculous.

“Quit giggling,” he half-laughed. “M’gonna pull a muscle in this bed, I swear.” Your head hit the pillow with a ‘oof’ and another giggle. “Dammit, babe, you make it hard to fuck you when you sound that cute.”

“Then don’t fuck me…” Bucky’s hips froze, his cock buried deep inside you. His sharp features softened with outright confusion and a slight insecurity. You reached up to caress the side of his face, the stubble on his cheek itching your palm. “Make love to me.” Bucky released a heavy sigh, rolled his eyes and collapsed on top of you.

“Don’t mess with me like that, Doll,” he whispered into your hair, using your new favorite pet name. His slow thrusts picked up again while he kept his face next to yours. You held onto him for dear life as the tension inside you continued to build until your arched back signaled your release. Bucky kept pumping until the lasting effects of your orgasm sent him over the edge. Rather than stopping completely, he slowed down until the only movement was a twitch of pleasure every now and then. “Oh my god,” he whispered, peppering kisses on your shoulder. “I’m taking you to dinner.”

“Why?” you laughed.

“I’m sorry, darlin, are you turning down a free meal? Is it the company? Do you just use me for my body?” Bucky climbed off of you but you reached out for him; He stumbled as he fully ejected himself from the bed.

“Nonono, that’s not what I said!” you said, as you continued to laugh. “I’m just wondering...if that’s your way of paying me for my services,” you wiggled your eyebrows, a hint at your teasing. Bucky snapped a finger and pointed at you, putting on his own mock serious face.

“Hooker, I’m taking you to dinner because I _want_ to.” Having cleaned himself up, Bucky tugged on his basketball shorts and a t-shirt he’d left in your dorm room the other day. The boy considered your floor his own personal closet. “We’ve stayed in, ordered food and watched movies and you’ve even helped me with my papers. You deserve to go out to an actual restaurant.”

“Okay, well, we should probably shower before we go out.”

“Oh, I agree but I can’t share that shower with you. It was too dangerous the first time. Never again.”

You picked up your towel and toiletries as Bucky sat in a bean bag chair on your floor. You tapped him on the nose.

“Never say never, Buck,” you said with a wink. 


End file.
